


Happily* Ever After (Some Terms and Conditions May Apply)

by XiuChen4Ever



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Aromantic Character, F/M, Fairy Tale Style, Feminist Themes, Fractured Fairy Tale, M/M, The Godfather Trilogy References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-01-05 03:07:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18357347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XiuChen4Ever/pseuds/XiuChen4Ever
Summary: For the fairies of the Godfamily, making good matches between young royals is paramount to maintaining their reputation.  Unfortunately, some clients are more difficult than others.





	Happily* Ever After (Some Terms and Conditions May Apply)

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [kpopolymfics2019](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/kpopolymfics2019) collection. 



> **Prompt:**  
>  **Twice – "What is Love?"**  
> [lyrics](https://popgasa.com/2018/04/09/twice-what-is-love/) **|** [video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i0p1bmr0EmE) **|** [supplementary](https://www.flickr.com/photos/lauraroselveti/5460722340/) \- [prompts](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/6d/1c/d0/6d1cd01613228074ba4ebf3bc3e64bcd.jpg)
> 
> This fic was written for K-Pop Olymfics 2019 as part of Team Alternate Universe 2. Olymfics is a challenge in which participants write fics based on prompt sets and compete against other teams of writers, organized by genre.

*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.*✧･ﾟ*☆｡. 

Once upon a time in the far-off land of Elyxion, a tiny fairy was, at the moment of telling, smacking his wee head against a wall.  You see, he was a member of the Fairy Godfamily, and he’d just found out his assignment for the annual Charming Ball.

This was a very important event for the Godfamily.  In fact, it was _the_ most important event.  The Charming ball was where all the land’s eligible princesses and princes were paraded out to be matched with another prince or princess (Elyxion was progressive like that) in order to sign marriage agreements that would form alliances, solidify bloodlines, or merely get them out of their parents’ palace basement.  Each young royal was assigned a fairy by the Godfamily to coach them on deportment and gussy them up properly for the ball.

And our little fairy—a grumpy little godbrother called Kyungsoo—had just found out he had been paired with Elyxion’s least eligible bachelor, Prince Sehun.

He was so going down like a rock in a wishing well.  

And then he’d get a bad Screech review by the attending wise old owls, and no royal family would ever want him to chaperone their son or daughter again.  He’d be a disgrace, a laughingstock, and it just wasn’t fair that Baekhee—a fairy godsister that always seemed to triumph despite her evident lack of skill or tact—had been assigned the ethereal Prince Minseok.  Everyone knew how handsome and charming Prince Minseok was, and Baek wouldn’t have to do anything but sit on his shoulder and look cute while the proposals flooded in.

Damn that pretty little pixie and her ridiculous luck.

“Uh, Soo?  You’re, uh, cracking the walnut.”

Kyungsoo stopped whacking his head against the polished inside of the hollow tree where he lived with his favorite Godfamily member, a sweet-faced godbrother called Jongin.  Said godbrother was eyeing Kyungsoo with some concern, soft eyes made round by Kyungsoo’s self-abuse.

Unable to cause those eyes any further distress, Kyungsoo slumped down against the wall with a grumble, narrow translucent wings dragging behind him like a quartet of skewed exclamation points.

“I got Prince Sehun,” Kyungsoo griped, crossing his arms over his leafy green tunic.

Jongin’s blue butterfly wings drooped with sympathy.  “At least he’s handsome. I got Princess Junhee, and she won’t even wear a dress.”  He hunkered down beside Kyungsoo in a cloud of pink tulle.

“Who did Chanyeol get?” Kyungsoo asked, wincing ahead of the answer he knew he wouldn’t like.

“Prince Jongdae.  Lucky son of a cockroach.”

Kyungsoo sighed anew.  He and Chanyeol had a sort of friendly rivalry going.  Every proposed match made at the Charming Ball had to stand in front of the Unicorn’s Mirror with their marriage agreement for evaluation before anything was officially finalized.  When the enchanted looking glass had properly analyzed the suitability of the match using some arcane rubrik only a magical one-horned creature could understand, he’d assign a probability score of the matched couple living Happily Ever After.  Scores above 70% were considered acceptable, but higher scores brought renown to the fairies that had facilitated the match.

If Chanyeol had Prince Jongdae—a caring, outgoing sort with killer cheekbones and a devastating smile—there was no possible way he wasn’t going to outscore Kyungsoo and his unmarriageable assignment.

“There’s still a month,” Jongin said.  “We have time to coach them. Maybe there’s a spell to make Princess Junhee wear a dress and like it.”

Kyungsoo snorted.  “You know the rules—no performance-enhancing spells.  The Unicorn will know if you try.”

“I know,” Jongin sighed.  “Well, we’d better get to work if we want any chance of saving ourselves from permanent shame.”

“Our time would be better spent updating our resumes,” Kyungsoo huffed, but he followed Jongin in grabbing his wand and getting to work anyway.

*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.

Prince Sehun was indeed handsome, tall with broad shoulders and a face that looked sculpted from marble.  Which wasn’t necessarily a good thing—the man’s expression was reluctant to change and only three people had ever seen him smile in public.  But at least Kyungsoo wouldn’t have to waste too much time and effort making him pretty. A well-tailored suit and a bit of eyeliner and the job would be done.

Unfortunately, modern princes and princesses were much less impressed with a pretty face than by a charming personality, and that, unfortunately, was where Prince Sehun was lacking.

It wasn’t that the prince was mean-spirited.  It wasn’t even that the prince was shy, although he was.  Kyungsoo could work with shy—he was far from the most outgoing fairy himself, but he knew how to put on a bit of a front, pretend to be bolder than he naturally was in order to get what he needed.  

But Prince Sehun just gave Kyungsoo vaguely disgusted looks whenever he made any sort of behavioral suggestions, and since the fairy wasn’t big enough to smack some sense into the kid, he’d resorted to begging— _really_ not a good look on him.

“Please, Prince Sehun.  I promise no one at the ball has cooties.  Just take their hand and kiss the back of it, give a little smile, maybe even a wink.”

“That’s so gross,” Prince Sehun dismissed.  “Do people really like that sleazy stuff?”

“It’s not _sleazy,_ it’s _charming,_ ” Kyungsoo explained yet _again._  “People expect a little over-the-top treatment when someone’s trying to impress them.  They’ll be doing the same sort of thing for you.”

“Eww!” Prince Sehun recoiled in horror, cradling his fuzzy white dog on his lap as if the little thing would save him from this perceived assault.

“Why is that gross?” Kyungsoo asked, crossing his arms over his chest and hovering before the recalcitrant prince.

“Because!” Prince Sehun exclaimed.  “I don’t like all that mushy stuff. It makes me feel like running away and puking.”

“You can’t run away and puke,” Kyungsoo explained patiently.  “You have to smile and be charming so you can get married.”

Prince Sehun pouted.  “Why do I have to get married?”

“Because you’re a prince, and that’s what princes do.”  Kyungsoo’s smile was so tight he was afraid for his teeth.

“Well, that’s just dumb,” Prince Sehun declared.  

Kyungsoo was beginning to agree.

*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.

In a nearby palace, Jongin was clutching an eyebrow pencil in front of himself like a shield, trying to dodge Princess Junhee’s attempts to swat him out of the air with a rolled-up newspaper.

“Okay, okay, no eyebrow makeup!” Jongin squealed.  

Princess Junhee relaxed, offering Jongin a sheepish smile.

“But what about just a little lipstick—eep!”  Jongin had to flap like crazy to flit up out of the princess’s reach.

“No makeup at all!” Princess Junhee countered, jumping and swinging the newspaper dangerously close to Jongin’s puffy pink skirts.

“Fine, no makeup.”  Since Jongin couldn’t very well _force_ the princess to wear makeup but she very much could bat him out the window, he released the makeup pencil with a pout.  Princess Junhee caught it neatly out of the air and indeed chucked it out of said window, thankfully without Jongin attached.

“Let’s talk about your clothes instead,” Jongin smiled, looking for a change to a less volatile topic.  “Now, I know you hate dresses, so I was thinking about a pantsuit.”

Princess Junhee tilted her head, wary but at least not swinging.

“Yes, a nice pantsuit,” Jongin continued with a wide smile.  “With lots of pink ruffles— _ow!_ ”

Princess Junhee then had the audacity to yell at Jongin for leaving a splat of fairy dust on her wall.

*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.

“Are you going with a pumpkin carriage this year?”

“Oh, those are _so_ last season.  Prince Minseok will be arriving in _proper_ style—we’ve reserved a beautiful honeydew, perfectly round and such a pretty pale green.”

“Oh, that sounds just _lovely._  Prince Jongdae insisted on a pumpkin—bit of a traditionalist—but I did at least talk him into a Casper White.”

Kyungsoo scowled down at the Prince Preview form he was about to turn in, resisting the urge to crumple it up and fling it at the pair of fairies in front of him.  It wasn’t _technically_ Baekhee or Chanyeol’s fault that his prince may as well have been a cardboard cutout, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t hate them for it anyway.

It would probably be _easier_ to find a match for a cardboard cutout.  At least then it wouldn’t argue with him about filling out the form.  As it was, Kyungsoo had run into trouble almost immediately after _Name: Prince Sehun; Height: 183 cm._

“What are your hobbies?” Kyungsoo had asked.

“I like playing with my dog.”

“Okay.  And what else?” Kyungsoo had asked.

Prince Sehun had just blinked at him.

And so it had gone on down the list, every single answer about interests and activities having the word “dog” in the answer and not much else.  Uncharitably, Kyungsoo began to think that perhaps the prince should just marry his dog if he loved it so much.

Kyungsoo turned to nod at Jongin when the flustered fairy hastened to join the line behind him.  “How did your form-filling go?”

Jongin shook his head, pink tiara wildly askew in his fluffy dark hair.  “I am going to need better insurance to keep working with Princess Junhee,” he panted.  “She certainly likes to fight—did I spell ‘patriarchy’ right? What even is that?”

“Systemic oppression of women by and for the benefit of men,” Kyungsoo answered, reaching over Jongin’s forearm to change a ‘k’ to a ‘ch.’”

“Oh,” Jongin said.  “I guess that’s a good thing to fight.”

“Sure,” Kyungsoo agreed, brushing wall plaster off Jongin’s shoulders.  “But _you_ are a tiny fairy, so she ought not to be fighting you.  You may be a man, but you’re incapable of oppressing anyone larger than a dung beetle.”

Jongin shuddered.  “Dung beetles are scary.”  He looked around furtively as if one might show up out of nowhere.

Kyungsoo patted his back between the wings, dislodging more plaster and a sprinkle of fairy dust.  “If you see a dung beetle, come and get me. I will take care of it for you.”

“Thanks, Soo,” Jongin sighed in relief.

Kyungsoo had to fight not to roll his eyes at his treemate.

*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.

Jongin had never been called before the Godfather before, so he was shifting his feet nervously outside the intimidating double doors that led into the Family Tree where the head of the Godfamily lived.  He was eventually ushered into a richly-appointed office with rose-petal curtains, a furry caterpillar-pelt rug, and a gleaming acorn desk. Behind this desk sat a wizened old fairy, once-transparent dragonfly wings now yellowed with age.

“Jongin,” the Godfather rasped.  “Why has your client filed a complaint against you, on this, the day of the Charming Ball?”

“I-I don’t know, Godfather.”

“Princess Junhee has sent the Godfather an official injunction, on this, the day of the Charming ball, accusing you of pressuring her to ‘infantilize herself to feed into predatory male power fantasies.’  Why, Jongin, on this, the day of the Charming Ball, must I call you into my office to face such accusations?”

“I-I’m sorry, Godfather,” Jongin winced.  “I swear I didn’t try to predator her or anything!”

“Then why is our client so irate on this, the day of the Charming Ball?”

Jongin tried to think of what he may have done to upset Princess Junhee enough to trap him in a jar and fling him into the frog pond, but he kept coming up blank.  “I-I don’t know, Godfather,” Jongin stammered. “All I did was suggest she may want to shave her legs.”

The Godfather frowned at Jongin.  “My son, a man should understand that a woman’s body is her own.  How she chooses to maintain it is her personal choice, not subject to the commentary of anyone else.”

“I was just trying to help her get married,” Jongin defended.  “That’s my job, isn’t it?”

“It is your job to facilitate a compatible match, not force your client to conform to any particular ideal.  A person must go into a match as their true selves or their happiness will soon sleep with the fishes.”

The Godfather leaned over the desk.  “You want your client to be happy, don’t you, Jongin?”

Jongin nodded.

“Then go and serve your client earnestly and sincerely.”

“Yes, Godfather.”  Jongin bowed and made to scuttle out of the room, but the twitch of a yellowed wing stops him.

“Jongin, my son.  Someday—and that day may never come—you will be called upon to raise a daughter of your own.  When that daughter comes to you, full of shame and rage because some bastard tried to dictate to your precious child a standard of appearance or behavior based solely on her gender, then you may truly understand.  Until that day, accept this assignment as a lesson in assisting a client to present themselves in a manner that empowers them, on this, the day of the Charming Ball.”

“Yes, Godfather,” Jongin repeated, bowing again before not-quite-fleeing the intimidating fairy’s presence.  He wished the Godfather didn’t have a penchant for talking like an old-timey gangster because it made him really hard to understand.  

“What did he want?” Kyungsoo asked, having been hovering nearby to make sure his treemate was alright.

“I’m not sure,” Jongin sighed.  “I think I’m supposed to treat Princess Junhee like my own daughter or something.”

Kyungsoo lifted a brow.  “Well, you’d better go get your daughter ready for the Charming Ball.  There are only a few hours left before showtime.”

Still looking completely bewildered, Jongin nodded and fluttered away.

*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.

Kyungsoo was pretty sure he never wanted children if chaperoning a client was what raising one was like.  

“Please, Prince Sehun,” Kyungsoo coaxed.  “Just a little smile? You don’t want everyone to think you’re cold and closed-off, do you?”

“I’m not cold,” Prince Sehun protested.  “I’m sweet and squishy. I just don’t see the need to pretend to be into all this hearts-and-flowers nonsense when I’m anything but.”

“You don’t have to pretend to be into mushy stuff,” Kyungsoo wheedled.  “Just pretend to be a little bit friendly, okay?”

“I’m plenty friendly,” Prince Sehun huffed.  “Why can’t I just meet people at the dog park?  Or the pet salon?”

“Prince Sehun,” Kyungsoo said, burying his face in his hands.  “I will personally sponsor a trip for you and Vivi to the fanciest pet salon in all the land if you will just try to look a little bit less like you’re plotting someone’s murder.”

“Why?” Prince Sehun asked.  “ _You_ look like you’re plotting someone’s murder.”

Kyungsoo took a moment to find a nice hard place on the prince’s chamber wall to repeatedly smack his wee little head.

*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.

“Wow,” Jongin breathed, clasping fistfulls of his fluffy pink ruffles to his chest.  “You look really hot, Princess!”

“I’m not trying to look _hot,_ ” Princess Junhee dismissed.  “I’m trying to look _powerful._ ”

“That, too,” Jongin readily agreed.  

The princess was wearing a well tailored dove gray silk pantsuit that accentuated both her sturdy shoulders and her modest feminine curves.  After hearing that most of the princes would be wearing at least a little makeup she’d consented to let Jongin give her bold cat-eye liner, winged out fiercely at the outside corners.  And her hair was piled up on top of her head, both exposing the elegant line of her neck and making her seem even taller than her pointy-toed silver heels already did.

“Nobody will mistake me for a pretty little broodmare in _this,_ ” Princess Junhee said, grinning at herself in the ornate hand mirror that Jongin was fluttering crazily to hold in the air for her.

Relieved that his client was at least pleased with her own appearance even if it was not at all what Jongin was used to, the fairy godbrother did a little loop in the air on the way out to their carriage.  He was a little embarrassed about the carriage—Princess Junhee had declared that if she was forced to ride to the ball in an enlarged plant ovary, she’d do so in the most phallic one possible. Hence the reptilian footman was holding open the door for them to climb into a zucchini.  

The princess had also insisted that Jongin transform one huge black rat into a frothy-mouthed destrier instead of making some sweet little mice into palfreys like most fairy godrelatives.  Jongin had been absolutely terrified of the creature when it had been a rat twice his size and he was even more terrified now that the ill-tempered beast could crush him beneath a hoof (and seemed rather in the mood to do so).

Jongin was fairly sure nobody had ever turned up to the Charming Ball in a giant zucchini drawn by a massive temperamental nightmare, but Princess Junhee had proven that it was really just easier to do things her way than to try to talk her out of it.  Strangely, Jongin felt a little thrill of pride when they exited the atypical carriage to the flashes of the assembled paparazzi, sitting tall on Princess Junhee’s padded shoulder and waving merrily to the crowd.

His client may not have been the belle of the ball, but she also definitely wasn’t a damsel in distress.

Princess Junhee strode boldly over the carpet and beneath the massive cuckoo clock that was steadily ticking away, counting the moments to midnight.  When it struck twelve all the magical transformations would revert, leaving the Godfamily to wrangle a bunch of confused rodents and salvage an assortment of gourds and melons for pies and salads.  But more importantly, it also marked the deadline for a couple to present themselves to the Unicorn’s Mirror to see if their union would be a happy one.

Jongin had four hours to convince Princess Junhee to step onto the Unicorn Dais with someone—anyone—or he wouldn’t even get paid for enduring the last month of abuse.  As he watched all the other young royals avert their gaze and back away from his mighty princess, Jongin wondered if Kyungsoo would kick him out if he couldn’t pay his share of the rent.

*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.

Kyungsoo was contemplating diving out the window of the mottled green-and-orange gourd that was carrying him and Prince Sehun to the ball.  The prince certainly cleaned up nice in his dark charcoal suit with a snazzy green pocket square, but he had very little interest in or opinion on any other aspect of this evening.  

He hadn’t cared what kind of carriage they rode in, so Kyungsoo had ended up choosing from the random rejects left over at the local Gourds ‘R’ Us.  Their carriage was drawn by a motley quartet of mismatched, oddly-marked horses and Kyungsoo wondered if he could perhaps hide in one of the prince’s shirt cuffs so no one would know that it was him who brought a royal to the Charming Ball in trappings so un-charming.

Prince Sehun was in a fouler mood than usual since Kyungsoo had refused to transform the prince’s dog into a footman so he could follow his master around all night.  Instead, their footmen were a sparrow and a vole, and Kyungsoo forgave his difficult prince for his lack of concern for propriety when said footmen danced around with joy at finally being chosen.

The vole bounced down to open the carriage door for them and bowed deeply, gesturing Prince Sehun toward the red carpet that led to the grand ballroom.  Kyungsoo was greatly disappointed when the prince even managed a tiny smile and a little wave only to be almost completely ignored by the paparazzi in favor of his gaudy mode of transport.

At least the prince was entirely unperturbed by the lack of press attention.  After being formally announced and striding down the grand staircase to a flashy trumpet fanfare, Prince Sehun wandered through the crepe-bedecked ballroom.  Every year there seemed to be more paper streamers and gaudy accordion-paper hearts and flowers, making it a hazard for a fairy to fly too near the over-decorated ceiling.

Evidently there was at least one thing about the Charming Ball that appealed to the unsentimental prince—the overflowing snack table.

“Want a bit of sugarplum?” he asked, holding a piece of candied purple fruit up to his shoulder for Kyungsoo.

“Er, yes.  Thank you,” Kyungsoo said, taking the treat.  He’d forgotten that the prince was actually rather nice when Kyungsoo wasn’t arguing with him about social norms and societal expectations.

“How long do we have to stay?”

“Well, I don’t get paid unless you and another royal go together to ask the Unicorn’s Mirror if you’re a suitable match,” the fairy confessed around a mouthful of confection, hoping the prince would at least agree to stand up there with some random person just to pay Kyungsoo’s bills.

“That sucks,” Prince Sehun said.  “Maybe I can talk my parents into paying your fee anyway—they know I’m a lost cause, so it’s unfair to punish you for losing at a game that’s impossible to win.”

Kyungsoo sighed.  “It’s fine. I’m not going to push you into anything.  Trapping you into a relationship you don’t want would be an unfair punishment for you.”

“I wouldn’t _mind_ a relationship,” Prince Sehun said.  “Just not… a mushy one. Like, it would be nice to have someone to hang out with all the time besides Vivi.  I love him, but his opinion on Hexflix shows is crap. And, well… a man has needs.” The prince blushed an appealing pink.

Kyungsoo choked on his sugarplum.  Thankfully, Prince Sehun caught him when he coughed himself off the man’s shoulder.

“Wait,” Kyungsoo wheezed.  “You _want_ to get married?”

“Not really,” Prince Sehun said, holding Kyungsoo where he can clearly see his face.  “But since I evidently _have_ to, that’s the kind I would want.”

Kyungsoo blinked.  “The kind where you hang out and, er, meet each other’s _needs?_ ”

The blush made a second, more gentle appearance.  “Yeah.”

“Isn’t that basically what married people do?”

Prince Sehun squirmed.  “Maybe, but I don’t want to have to do all the rest of the gross sappy things that married people do.  I don’t want to take long walks on the beach with our hands entwined or compare someone to a summer’s day.  But it would be nice to have someone to be comfortable with. Someone to care about who didn’t expect me to bring them flowers or fawn over them or serenade them outside their balcony.  And someone who wouldn’t try to do those things to me.”

Kyungsoo tilted his face to one side.  “A friend. You’re describing a friend.”

But Prince Sehun shook his head.  “I don’t live with my friends, and our physical relationship stops at the occasional hug.  If I were to share my life with someone, it would be more special than a friend. Just… not mushy.”

And before Kyungsoo could try to make proper sense of that, both of them were distracted when the sound of a sharp slap caused the string quartet to jangle to a halt.

*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.

Jongin wasn’t sure whether it would be best to scream, cry, flit away, or just turn himself in to the Godfather now and get whatever would be coming to him for this catastrophe.  He was frozen in shock, hands over his face, almost forgetting to flutter. Princess Junhee and Prince Jongdae were frozen too, the former glowering with righteous indignation and the latter hunched over with a palm pressed to one cheek.  Chanyeol, on the other hand, was zipping around over Prince Jongdae’s head like a leaf in a windstorm, muttering a panicked litany of what-do-I-do-nows.

“What is going on over here?”

Jongin peeked through his fingers to see Prince Minseok regarding the stock-still figures with concern, Baekhee perched atop his silky black hair.

“I complimented her and she hit me,” Prince Jongdae whined, giving the other prince a pout as he rubbed his cheek.

“That was not a compliment,” Princess Junhee retorted.  “That was an implication that an attractive woman should alter her demeanor to appeal aesthetically to a man.”

Prince Jongdae blinked stupidly at the irate princess.  “A what?” he asked, hand still glued to his face.

“What did you say to her, Prince Jongdae?” Prince Minseok asked gently.

“I said a lady as beautiful as herself should be smiling,” Prince Jongdae whined.  “It’s one of the lines my fairy godbrother taught me. He said she’d giggle and blush, not rearrange my face.”

Baekhee flitted over to smack a still-flailing Chanyeol, making the fairy tumble briefly before catching himself on his fluffy moth wings.

“Why would you teach your client something so entitled?” she asked.

“It’s just a line!” Chanyeol said.  “It’s not entitled, it’s supposed to open the conversation and flatter the lady!”

“How is it flattering to be told that since you meet a minimum standard of beauty, you ought to make sure to be wearing a pleasant expression regardless of how your face rests or how you feel at the moment?”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Prince Jongdae protested, giving Prince Minseok puppy eyes.  “I just thought she was pretty and wanted her to smile at me.”

“That’s the problem with lines,” Prince Minseok said.  “At best, they’re cheesy. At worst, they’re offensive.  Offering a genuine compliment has a better chance of making someone feel warm and friendly toward you.”

“Sorry,” Prince Jongdae said, taking his hand away from his cheek to offer a formal bow to the princess.  “I didn’t mean to offend. You just looked so striking standing there in that power suit that I couldn’t think of anything original to say.”

“Just ‘hello’ is a place to start, foolish boy,” Prince Minseok chided gently.  “Now come with me to put a little ice on your cheek.” He took a newly-blushing Prince Jongdae by the hand and began to lead him over to the punch table.

“Wait,” Princess Junhee called, and Jongin whirled to face the princess along with everyone else.  “I’m sorry, too,” she said, bowing formally to Prince Jongdae. “I overreacted. I hope your cheek feels better soon.”

Jongin fell twenty centimeters before he managed to restart his wings.  

Everyone else seemed similarly shocked.  “Uh, it’s alright,” Prince Jongdae said. “Let’s just forget about the whole thing?”  He offered a wan smile.

“Alright,” Princess Junhee agreed with a little smile of her own.

The string quartet took that as a cue to resume, and soon the pleasant strains of “Some Enchanted Evening” were once again floating through the ballroom.  The crowd returned to their own conversations, leaving Jongin hovering awkwardly in front of an equally-awkward Princess Junhee.

“If I have to stay here for three more hours, I’m going to need a drink,” Princess Junhee sighed.

“Great idea,” Jongin nodded.  It probably wasn’t a great idea to let the volatile princess get too drunk, but one or two drinks could help both of them relax a little.  He settled on her shoulder again as she headed for the bar.

“You really are pretty, though,” Jongin offered when they were halfway to their destination.  “Powerful too, of course. But I can see why the prince wanted to see your smile.”

Princess Junhee cut her eyes to the fairy on her shoulder, but her gaze was soft rather than sharp.  “Little flatterer,” she accused. “It shouldn’t matter how pretty I am. If I must be tied to someone for the rest of my life, they’d better be interested in me for a reason that won’t fade as we age.”

“That’s a good point,” Jongin conceded, hopping from shoulder to bar once they arrived.  “In fact, I’ll drink to that.”

*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.

“Do you think you could just, maybe, _not_ say things like that to people I introduce you to?” Kyungsoo gritted out after Prince Sehun informed a prince that he only liked kissing if it led to “bedroom things.”

“I’m not going to lie,” Prince Sehun said.  “If I’m supposed to find someone for the rest of my life, they should know these things up front.”

Kyungsoo couldn’t really argue with that.  “Well, can we maybe work on easing people into the topic of your anti-mush sentiments?”

“Why?” Prince Sehun asked.  “The rest of the world doesn’t ease me into mushy situations.  I just have to deal with the fact that the rest of the world likes stuff that makes me really uncomfortable.  Seriously, kissing a hand? _Three people_ have tried to put their lips on my knuckles tonight, Soo.”

And each time the prince had rapidly withdrawn his hand to hide it behind his back while making a disgusted expression, causing each of the three young royals to believe Prince Sehun found _them_ disgusting rather than the concept of a fawning little kiss.  Kyungsoo had to chase down crying people and explain, and it was really hard to explain what he still didn’t really understand.

Sighing, Kyungsoo looked up at the clock.  Only five minutes had passed since he last looked at it.  And he shouldn’t _want_ time to pass until he’d gotten his charge securely contracted, but Kyungsoo was sure that enduring the rest of the ball would be worse than any dressing-down the Godfather might give him.  He hoped Jongin’s princess had calmed down and stopped hitting people. She was pretty enough that someone might agree to marry her for her face if she didn’t open her mouth.

Kyungsoo suddenly felt like the cuckoo clock was surrounding him, every tick a harbinger of his doom.  “I could use some air,” he blurted. “Should we check out the balcony?”

“Sure,” Prince Sehun agreed with a smile.  

He really was quite amenable when not being pushed into situations he couldn’t stand.  Too bad Kyungsoo had to stand this ball for two more hours.

But not on the balcony, evidently.  It was already occupied by a pair of princes who’d evidently escaped their watchful chaperones in favor of making out fervently beside a giant pot of forget-me-nots.  The darkness hid their faces but not their moans, and it wasn’t just Prince Sehun that made an appalled face and bolted back for the safety of the well-lit ballroom.

“I at least agree with you that mushy stuff is gross if you’re not the one participating in it,” Kyungsoo grimaced.

In response to that, Prince Sehun not only demonstrated a cute little smile, but he also treated Kyungsoo to a breathy little chuckle.  “Common ground is important,” he said.

“But not _too_ common.”  Kyungsoo shuddered again as Prince Sehun laughed.

A frantic fluttering near the ceiling caught Kyungsoo’s eye.  Above them, Baekhee and Chanyeol were dodging dangling honeycombed hearts and working a grid pattern, evidently searching for their misplaced charges.  Kyungsoo flitted up to their height and did a backflip to grab their attention.

“I think you left something out on the balcony,” he said with a wry little smile.  “I hope you already gave them the ‘use protection’ talk.”

It may have been extremely petty, but Kyungsoo _really_ enjoyed the expressions of abject horror on both their faces as they darted through the door that Prince Sehun helpfully held open.

*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.

“Not even one little dance?”

“No.”

“Not a slow one, but a fast one?  With no touching?”

“No.”

“But dancing is so much fun.”  Jongin did a sad little pirouette on Princess Junhee’s shoulder.

“Not for everyone,” Princess Junhee countered, seeming entirely content to lean against one of the ballroom’s support pillars and swirl her tumbler of gin and tonic.  

“Then would you like to join the group playing Jenga?”

Princess Junhee shrugged.  “I like Jenga well enough, but they already have a lot of players.”

“What about the group playing Cards Against Fantasy?”

This suggestion provokes a snarl.  “The whole point of that game is to be as offensive as possible, and you made me promise not to hit anyone else.”

Jongin drooped.  He’d accepted his unpaid fate and had given up trying to get Princess Junhee to find a potential partner, but he was _bored._  There was still an hour left until midnight and Jongin didn’t just sit around very well, alcohol or no.  Princess Junhee had given him a truly frightening glare when he’d suggested they at least go join the crowd loitering around the Unicorn’s Mirror to see how other couples were stacking up.

At a loss for entertainment options, Jongin spread arms and wings and flopped over on Princess Junhee’s shoulder, a squashed fairy with squashed hopes.  But when an enormous cheer erupted from around the Unicorn’s Mirror, Jongin launched himself high enough into the air to see what the fuss was about.

Prince Minseok and Prince Jongdae were kissing in front of the laughing face hovering within the Unicorn’s Mirror, their compatibility score of 93 reflected in the glass.  Baekhee and Chanyeol were doing mid-air cartwheels, clouds of fairy dust shimmering in their wake.

Jongin slowly drifted back to Princess Junhee’s shoulder, deflating on a sigh.

“Is it the princes from earlier?” Princess Junhee asked as Chanyeol announced the new couple to the crowd.

“Yup.”  The cheers for the pair were almost deafening, and for a moment both fairy and princess put their hands over their ears.

“Well, good for them,”  Princess Junhee said once they could hear each other again.  She said this without sarcasm or venom, just a bit of melancholy.

Jongin sat up straight.  “You’re actually happy for them?”

“Sure.  The one I slapped had been mooning over the other one for like twenty minutes before he decided to try his luck with me.  If they’re happy together, then I wish them well even if I’m a little envious.”

“You’re what?” Jongin blinked.  “I thought you hated marriage because you aren’t anybody’s property and don’t need the sociopolitical clout or economic support of a man to have a quality life?” the fairy recited.

“I do.  But that doesn’t mean I want to be alone forever.”

Jongin blinked twice more, then folded into a frustrated little ball teetering precariously on Princess Junhee’s shoulder.  “Princess,” he groaned. “You do realize there are different contracts available, right? I mean, it doesn’t technically have to be a marriage.”

“I know,” Princess Junhee shrugged, almost dislodging the fairy.  “But I don’t want some non-marriage agreement with just anyone. I won’t be anyone’s trophy or pet.”

Jongin felt a little like crying, a little like running away—but that was basically the ongoing theme of the maddening evening.

“Well, it’s too late now, anyway,” he grumbled.  “All the good partners are paired up by now, I’m sure.”

Princess Junhee shrugged again.  “Oh well. As I said, a partner isn’t necessary for a quality life.”

Maybe not _her_ life, Jongin thought, gazing forlornly across the ballroom.  But it was sure going to impact Jongin’s quality of life if he didn’t get paid.  Hopefully Kyungsoo was having better luck.

After a bit of head-swiveling, Jongin located Prince Sehun leaning disinterestedly against a wall, looking obscenely handsome in his dark suit.  The sad little heap of fairy on one broad shoulder was probably Kyungsoo, looking just as dejected as Jongin felt.

Jongin huffed in wry amusement.  Their quirky pair of royals, looking sharp and holding up the building with their shoulders.

“Princess, would you mind if we lounged disdainfully over there near my friend?  He could use some cheering up.”

Princess Junhee glanced up at the prince against the wall.  “With Prince Sehun?”

“Is that okay?  Is he the pat-tree-arky?”

She shrugged, shoulder rolling beneath Jongin’s feet.  “He’s alright, I guess. I mean, he’s never said anything dumb to me, but that could be because he’s barely said anything to me at all.”

“So we can stand by them?”

“Sure, why not?”  With Jongin clapping on her shoulder, Princess Junhee straightened up and strode over toward the prince.  

*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.

“Do you know an excitable fairy in a pink tutu?” Prince Sehun asked, amusement in his voice.  

Kyungsoo picked his face up from where it was mashed against the shoulder of the prince’s fine suit.  “That’s Jongin. He’s my treemate.”

“Ah.  I was wondering why he was pointing at us.  Now he and his princess are coming over here.”

“Goodie,” Kyungsoo mumbled sarcastically into the charcoal fabric.  The only thing better than failing completely at your only job was doing so with an audience.

“Aww, cheer up little pal.  I’ll make sure you don’t starve.”

“That’s kind of you, Prince,” Kyungsoo said to the man’s shoulder.  “But it’s also a matter of pride. I _like_ matching people up.  I’m good at it. It’s disheartening to watch idiots succeed by accident when I’ve been working so hard.”

A fairy godrelative wasn’t supposed to whine to their charge about their personal or professional failings of course, but it’s not like the Screech review Kyungsoo would get after this could possibly be any worse.  Those creepy owls had been eying him judgmentally all evening.

Prince Sehun pats Kyungsoo between the wings with one gentle finger.  “Maybe next year you’ll get someone who’s into that creepy hand-kissing.”

“Who’s kissing hands?” Princess Junhee asked disdainfully as she strode up beside them, Jongin looking wistful on her shoulder.

“Not me,” Prince Sehun asserted.  

“Good.  It’s gross.”  Princess Junhee settled her shoulder blades against the wall a meter or so away from the prince.  “So is holding hands—I’m not a child or a dog to be kept on a leash.”

Prince Sehun snorted.  “I dislike losing the use of a limb, but that’s also a valid reason.”

This earned the prince a nod and a tiny smile.  “I can appreciate the practical as well as the philosophical,” Princess Junhee acknowledged.

Prince Sehun’s answering smile was equally subdued.  “I’m not the philosophical type.”

“Men generally don’t have to be,” Princess Junhee dismissed.  “I’ve long since stopped being disappointed.”

“We do have it pretty easy,” Prince Sehun agreed.  

Princess Junhee eyed the prince curiously.  “At least you admit it,” she said. “Is your fairy godrelative dead?”

“Just moping,” Prince Sehun answered before Kyungsoo could say anything in his own defense.  

“Ah,” Princess Junhee smiled as Kyungsoo pushed himself into a sitting position and attempted to look slightly more professional.  “Not going to present anyone to the Unicorn?”

Prince Sehun shrugged.  “Nobody’s stuck around after I told them I’m not interested in kissing them unless we’re going all the way right then.”

Princess Junhee tilted her face in consideration, then shrugged back.  “I think it’s fun to just make out sometimes, but I understand how a guy would be uncomfortable if things got heated and then stopped.”  Her cheeks flushed a gentle pink. “Sort of like a guy finishing and leaving a woman unsatisfied, I guess, but at least for a woman it’s not physically painful.”

Prince Sehun’s cheeks became just as pink.  “Well. I’m sure it’s unintentional in both cases.”

“Doesn’t make it less annoying.  That’s why people should talk about these things.”

“Evidently, talking about it makes people find an excuse to end the conversation, and then my little godbro grinds his tiny teeth right next to my ear.”

“Mine whimpers,” Princess Junhee said sheepishly.  “I feel kind of bad for him, but I’m not going to let anyone refer to me by words that relate to animals or food.   _Especially_ when someone uses dumb pet names to attempt to hide the fact that they don’t know my real name.”

“It’s Junhee, isn’t it?” Prince Sehun asked.

“Yes.  And you’re Sehun.”

“I am.”

The pair exchanged genuine smiles, looking so relaxed that Kyungsoo hatched a hare-brained idea.  He jumped off Prince Sehun’s shoulder, darting toward the ceremonial table beside the Unicorn’s Mirror.  There was half an hour left before midnight, and that might be just enough time.

*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.

“Where’s he going?” Princess Junhee asked, watching Kyungsoo flit away like a hawk was after him.

“I don’t know,” Jongin answered, a little afraid his treemate had finally cracked like a walnut.  

“It’s been hard on him,” Prince Sehun said softly.  “He takes his job very seriously.”

The pair began to look a little awkward, so Jongin felt the need to provide a topic for conversation that both royals can relate to.  “Um. Princess Junhee says fitness is important. Prince Sehun, you look pretty fit.”

Prince Sehun shrugged.  “I visit the palace gym a few times a week.  And I walk my dog a lot.”

“I have a dog, too!” Princess Junhee said.  “Her name is Star.”

“My boy is called Vivi,” Prince Sehun smiled.  “What kind of dog is yours?”

From there the conversation took off like a dragon after gold.  It wasn’t quite the direction in which Jongin had meant to launch it, but they were talking and smiling and nobody was hitting anyone.  A mutual love of dogs was certainly not the worst example of a common interest.

Kyungsoo landed on a nearby table holding a scroll and a quill pen, beckoning for Jongin to come give him a hand. The pair of fairies unrolled what turned out to be a generic contract, weighting the corners with abandoned tumblers to keep it from curling back up.  

“You fill out Princess Junhee’s information,” Kyungsoo said after he’d filled in Prince Sehun’s particulars.  He kept his voice low, evidently trying not to be noticed by the chattering pair of royals. “I’ll go steer the conversation in a more legally-definitive direction.”

“Okay,” Jongin agreed, doing his best to write neatly and clearly even though the quill was taller than he was.

“So, if kissing is only appreciated as a prelude to more intimate activities and holding hands is unappreciated in general, what about cuddling or hugging?”

Both royals broke off their conversation about which gingerbread hut made the best dog biscuits to stare at Kyungsoo.

“Uh, I like hugs,” Prince Sehun said, recovering first.  “And cuddling is great as long as it’s not too hot to do it without getting all sweaty.”

“Ugh, cuddle sweat is the worst,” Princess Junhee agreed.  “But it’s nice to have a warm body to cozy up to on cold days.”

“Okay, good to know,” Kyungsoo said, scribbling on a tiny notepad as if he were taking their drink order.  “And about these pet names—is it just food or animal ones that are objectionable, or are all pet names unwanted?”

The royals exchanged an odd look.  “Well, I don’t mind shortened versions of my name as long as they’re variations on ‘Jun’ rather than ‘hee,’ the princess stated.

“I’m fine with Hun or Hunnie,” the prince added.  

“Okay, noted… Now, as far as children go, how do you both feel about the subject?”

“No, thank you,” both royals answered at the same time, although Prince Sehun’s tone was polite where Princess Junhee’s was emphatic.

“Excellent, glad that won’t be an issue.  Now, if the two of you were to be intimate together, what expectations and preferences would each of you have in that area?”

“Together?” Princess Junhee said, then gave Prince Sehun a full-body appraisal, nodding at what she saw.  “If you took care of me first with your mouth, I’d be happy enough to take care of you the way you like afterwards.”

Prince Sehun’s cheeks were pink again, deeper than before.  “Um, I’ve never, uh. Well. I might not be good at it right away.”

Princess Junhee smiled at the blushing boy, eyes curving into cute little crescents.  “It’s up to every individual to teach their lover what they like. It’s only fair to provide an adventurer with a map.”

The prince nodded, still blushing but otherwise looking rather relieved.  

“And how about frequency?”

The royals looked at each other.  “Uh, well, I’m not getting any at the moment,” Prince Sehun said.  “So more than that would be nice.”

“Sometimes I’m more interested, sometimes less.  But probably an average of a few times a week, I’d guess,” Princess Junhee said.

“Well, the physical part certainly seems compatible,” Kyungsoo noted, still scribbling away.  “Now for the emotional part—You seem like a no-nonsense woman, Princess Junhee. Prince Sehun has an aversion to all things ‘mushy.’  Would that be a dealbreaker for you?”

Princess Junhee shrugged at the bashful prince.  “I guess that depends on his definition of ‘mushy.’  I'd always hoped to end up with a genuinely loving relationship, unlike the purely political arrangement my parents have. But I don’t need a lot of hearts and flowers. I just want to be respected as an adult with equal agency and feel appreciated for my genuine self instead of merely my assets, physical or material.”  She and Kyungsoo looked at Prince Sehun expectantly.

“I try to respect everyone,” Prince Sehun said.  “And I’m appreciative, I’m just not sappy. I’m not going to hand-feed you or sprinkle rose petals on the bed or gaze longingly into your eyes.  I’ll cuddle you on the sofa but not in public. And… well. I could genuinely love you, but I’m never going to be _in love_ with you.  I just don’t work like that.”

The princess considered.  Jongin crossed his fingers, risking a glance at the clock.  Fifteen minutes left. He started filling in everything he could on the form, checking “None” below Expected Issue—why the barrister brownies insisted on using strange words when normal words like “children” would work perfectly fine, Jongin would never understand.  

“I don’t think I need romance in order to feel loved,” Princess Junhee decided.  “I don't need it to be sweet like candy or to feel like flying.  I do need respect and affection and appreciation but I don’t tolerate cheesiness very well.  I’d want to be a full partner in your life and vice versa, though. I don’t want to just be a live-in friend with benefits.”

“I’d like a partner,” Prince Sehun smiled.

“Great, go stand in front of the Unicorn’s Mirror to start the interview while we finish up the agreement.”

“Not a marriage,” Princess Junhee said over her shoulder as she strode after the prince.  “I’m keeping my name and independence. Title it something else.”

Kyungsoo zipped off to grab a second quill, tossing the notepad down in the center of the contract so Jongin could start transferring the terms and conditions onto the appropriate lines.

“Should we just call it a Royal Partnership?” Kyungsoo asked when he came back with the quill, hovering over the title blank.  

Jongin shook his head.  That term was one many same-sex couples chose, but he felt like this atypical arrangement was something completely different.  “They’re a quirky pair of royals,” he told Kyungsoo. “So just call it a QPR. It’ll be unique, just like they are.”

Kyungsoo filled in the abbreviation in his boldest calligraphy, then helped Jongin transfer the rest of the stipulations into the proper spots.  They finished just as the cuckoo clock began to chime so Jongin used his larger wings to carry the completed agreement to the waiting couple as fast as if he’d teleported across the room.

“Ah, here we have the paperwork,” said the face that seemed to float just inside the unicorn-carved mirror.  

It was a handsome face, dimples flashing when the full lips pulled into a grin at Jongin’s arrival.  The clock chimed three more times while the Unicorn’s face looked over the contract the couple was holding up for him, asking a few questions as he took in the arrangements.

Kyungsoo had joined them as the Unicorn did his thing, latching onto Jongin’s forearm and squeezing as if he meant to twist it off.

“Well, I’ve never seen a relationship contracted quite like this,” the Unicorn declared as the eighth chime sounded.  “But it seems to be suitable for the pair of you. If you both abide by this contract, respectfully renegotiating when the terms and conditions become unsatisfactory for either party, I give your relationship a ninety-seven percent chance of contributing to your long-term happiness.”

The twelfth chime rang out loud and clear into the stunned silence following the Unicorn’s pronouncement.

“Ninety-seven?” Kyungsoo gasped.  “No one has ever gotten higher than a ninety-five.”

“Until now,” Jongin grinned, rescuing his forearm from his treemate’s grasp and giving the still shocked fairy a hug.  As the more senior godrelative, Kyungsoo would normally have been the one to announce the new relationship, but Jongin suspected that if he waited for Soo to regain his rational mind they’d be there all night.

So Jongin left his treemate gaping stupidly at the couple and went to hover above them, inhaling deeply to project his voice well as all members of the Godfamily had been taught.

“Presenting the QPR of Princess Junhee and Prince Sehun!  May their relationship follow the path of the Unicorn!”

“Hear, hear!” the crowd responded, and the couple took a bow before descending the dais, not arm-in-arm but smiling at each other anyway.

And they did indeed live Happily* Ever After.

### The End.

_*For certain definitions of “happy” including (but not limited to) content, satisfied, pleased, and fulfilled, for as long as both parties named in the contract remain alive and cognizant and willingly renew said contract with the same or altered mutually-satisfying terms in five-year intervals as recommended by the Elyxion Barrister Brownie Association._

*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.*✧･ﾟ*☆｡.


End file.
